


Without Silence

by MoDSarah



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hogwarts, M/M, Mute Harry, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Pre-Hogwarts, Pre-Slash, Rating may go up, Slash, Slow Build, Time Travel, Wool's Orphanage, Young Harry, Young Tom Riddle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-06-07 09:30:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6798445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoDSarah/pseuds/MoDSarah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A car accident leaves little Harry Potter mute and thrown back in time. There he meets and befriends a fellow orphan named Tom Riddle; a freak just like him, and the world wasn't looking all that grim anymore. Because the words unsaid, are sometimes the most important.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter or any of it’s characters. I only own this story and my creativity.
> 
> Warnings: Slash (not until some time though), time travel, cussing, violence, plotting, blood, (mild) gore, OC’s and Mute!Harry
> 
> Beta: Beta-ed by my lovely friend: Anki! (you can find her on FF.net) Please thank her for taking the time and always doing such a wonderful job at helping me by pointing out any mistakes I made.

~*~WithoutSilence~*~

Prologue

“Endings that are muted, but which echo longer in the memory than louder, more explosive denouements.” ~ Diane Setterfield

~*~WithoutSilence~*~

It was a bright sunny afternoon on October 31st. The normally tidy and rather boring streets of Little Whinging were decorated in bright lanterns and colourful decorations. Bright orange pumpkins lay on the front-lawns of the many rows of houses, various faces carved into them, pronouncing the holiday atmosphere a little more. A couple of children were already donned out in varying costumes, running around in excitement for the trick-or-treating they would be doing that night.

Petunia Dursley was sitting on one of the benches in the playground, conversing with Karen Polkiss* as their children were playing with a ball together. Although many a person would probably call it ‘gossiping’ rather than idle chatter. But what could one expect, when two house-wives were left alone to entertain themselves whilst their children are off causing mayhem on their own.

Meanwhile, little four-year-old Harry Potter sat on one of the swings situated on the outskirts of the rather small playground. Bright green eyes watched the other children forlornly, knowing that he wouldn’t be invited to play with any of them even if he asked them. He was a Freak after all. He wasn’t allowed to have fun. He kicked his legs back and forth, not even close to reaching the dusty ground below. The swing swung softly, squeaking in protest at every small movement it made. It was an old swing; rust had taken the place of the original paint coat some time ago. But Harry liked it all the same. None of the other kids wanted to play with the swings, so he had them all to himself.

Harry watched Dudley and his best-friend Piers kicking at a ball. It was bright red, the same colour as a fire truck. The rubber was still shining, not a single sign of wear to be seen on it. It looked as if it was bought only yesterday.

Which it actually was.

Dudley had been throwing a tamper-tantrum, screaming that his old ball was too old and too ugly for him to use. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had quickly indulged the spoilt toddler and proceeded to buy the best one they could find for their ‘Ickle Diddykins’, and gave him an ice-cone afterwards (even if it was already autumn) for good measure. Dudley had proceeded to flaunt off his brand-new ball to his smaller cousin, licking at his melting ice-cream even as it dripped over his meaty hand and on to the carpet below. Harry had been forced to clean up the mess his cousin had made.

He continued to watch the two boys, wondering not for the first time how it would be like if he had a friend of his own. A _best_ friend. Someone to share his secrets with, and play and laugh and joke around with. Someone who understood. Someone who loved him for who he is.

Harry secretly hoped that he would be able to gain a friend once he had started primary school next year. Sadly, he wasn’t about to get his hopes up. Dudley would be in the same class as him and would probably influence the other children’s opinion on him as he always does when meeting new people. Just like his aunt and uncle, when they tell those lies about him to their neighbours when asked about him.

Harry wasn’t stupid. He knew what they were doing was bad and that how they treated him wasn’t in the norm of things. He’s great at observing people, as it’s one of the few things he could do without being berated or punished. He’d seen the differences in upbringing between himself and other children (Dudley not included.) It wasn’t normal to ask a four-year-old to cook their breakfast, or hit him over the head when he asked his family questions that had been floating around in his head. It also wasn’t normal that his bedroom was a small cupboard under the stairs.

Whereas other children got showered with love and affection, their owies kissed away and receiving fitting clothes instead of shirts you could probably use to sail with and pants a little too big to be called a fashion statement.

But Harry had also observed that he wasn’t very normal compared to other children, because he could do things that others could not. Strange things always happened around him. Abnormal things. Things that shouldn’t be possible and which made his family very upset with him when they saw it happening.

The four-year-old was brought out of his inner-musings as a ball flew past his face, missing him by mere inches. Harry startled, jerking so far back that he lost his balance on the swing-seat and fell to the ground below. He yelped, sucking in a sharp breath. Harry lay there for a few seconds, gasping as the air had been knocked out of his lungs. Dudley and Piers were laughing (more like giggling) from their place further down the playground.

Harry slowly sat up, wincing at the stinging on his hands from the scrapes he’d gotten on them. He brushed off the dust from his clothes as he got up, knowing his aunt wouldn’t be too happy with him for making them dirty in the first place. Not like it was his fault or anything.

“Get back my ball, Freak!” Dudley called out. Piers snickered, spurring Dudley on as he continued to yell, “and don’t dirty it with your dirty- uh… freakishness!” They continued to chortle as they send random insults after his back.

Harry scowled, muttering under his breath about the Pig in A Wig and his rat-faced friend. He stopped at the end of the playground, looking around for Dudley’s ball. He spotted it on the road where an intersection started. Harry ran towards it, swiftly reaching the ball. He picked it up, feeling the smooth surface under his small hands. Harry wished he could play with it; see how good it will bounce off the ground. He wanted to try out how hard he could kick it, watch as it sailed through the air.

Harry was so distracted by his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed that he was still standing in the middle of the street.

The sound of tires screeching, a person yelling and two bright lights were the only warning the four-year-old received. Bright green eyes widened in horror at the oncoming car, before he shut them tight and could only wait for the inevitable collision. He wished he would be safe. Somewhere. _Anywhere!_

There was a crash, a lot of pain and a searing in his forehead. For a second the small toddler felt weightless, an odd feeling washing through him- as if he could feel his blood rushing through his veins, but not quite. Everything was tingling, but the pain in his forehead increased beyond anything the small boy had ever felt before. He crashed into the ground, faintly aware of screams and yelling and a muffled voice telling him to stay awake and that everything would be okay because help was on the way- before he let himself fall into unconsciousness and the world went dark around him.

In an entirely different time (more than 50 years into the future) a driver was panicking, yelling about hitting a small black-haired kid. Petunia Dursley was ushering her son away to the comforts of home, her face ashen and weary.

A bright red ball rolled over the pavement until it finally came to a halt at the sidewalk.

~*~WithoutSilence~*~

“-lost a lot of blood-“

…

“-blood pressure dangerously low-“

…

“-heart rate is increasing-“

…

“-Quickly! We’re losing-“

…

Sounds and voices came and went. Green eyes fluttered open, before he shut them tightly again at the onslaught of light invading his senses. Harry waited a few seconds, squinting up at the bright lights and slowly let his eyes get used to them. He was faintly aware of someone talking, but was too tired to make out the words being said to him. He drowned them all out, calming his too hard beating heart by taking deep, steadying breaths. He knew he should be panicking. But he felt oddly at ease for now. 

It felt like an eternity until he was finally able to open his eyes again (at least it felt like that to him.) The first thing he saw was a bright, white ceiling overhead. Then slowly the details became clear. A fan hung in the middle, turned off as it wasn’t all that warm outside. Light-bulbs were turned on, giving the room a bit of extra artificial light together with the sunlight streaming from inside the window to the far left of the room.

His fingers twitched, becoming aware of a thin sheet covering him from the chest down. He looked down at himself, seeing bandages covering his chest, arms and if what he felt was right, a bandage was also covering his head. Harry brought up his right arm to feel at his head but stopped when he saw a needle sticking out of his arm, a tube attached to it which led to a drip.

He slowly sat up, wincing at the pain shooting up his arms and torso and started to fiddle with the needle stuck in his arm, trying to pull it out.

“I would leave that there, if I were you dear.” 

Harry startled, shuffling back into his pillow as panic gripped at his heart. He stared, wide-eyed at the nurse smiling at him from the doorway. The thumping in his chest slowly started to calm down again and the shaking in his limbs was starting to recede a little.

The nurse started to walk towards his bed, before pulling out a little light and held his head with the other. Harry, petrified, could only watch as she shone it in his eyes before nodding and writing something on a clipboard which hung from the foot of his bed.

“Your pupillary light reflex seems to be reacting a little slow, I’ll tell the doctor to take a look at it once he’s here.”  Harry didn’t understand what she was talking about and started to wiggle around under the sheets. The nurse smiled at him again; harry giving a tentative one back. “I’ll warn the doctor that you’re awake now dear, I’ll be back in a jiffy.” And she was out the door the next instance.

Harry looked around the room again in curiosity. It was a spacey room, with a bedside table next to his bed and two chairs and a small table next to the window on the left. There was only one door which presumably led to the hallway of the hospital. And that was where Harry was at the moment, a hospital. If the nurse wasn’t any indication, it would be all the whiteness around him and the smell of antiseptics permeating the air.

Harry was starting to get bored just sitting there when the door suddenly opened and a middle-aged man walked in.

“Good day young man, I hope you are feeling well. My name is Robert Akers, but you may call me Doctor or Dr. Aker and I’ll be your doctor while you recover here in the Royal London Hospital.” The doctor was telling him whilst checking Harry’s vitals and shining another light inside his eyes. Harry blinked a couple of times, trying to clear the white spots from his vision. “You came in with some very serious injuries, little man. You’ve been asleep for almost a week.” 

“Can you tell me your name?” Harry shook his head, placing his small shaking hands inside his lap. “You don’t remember your name?” Harry shook his head again. He remembered his name just fine. He placed a hand on his throat, hoping the man would understand what he meant by that gesture.

The doctor frowned slightly, writing something on his clipboard again. “Can you open your mouth very wide for me? Yes, exactly like that.” He shone a light down his throat and placed a stick on his tongue to push it a little more out of the way. After a while he put the light and the stick away and felt around Harry’s neck and throat with his fingers. Harry sat patiently while this happened, looking at the window over the man’s left shoulder.

“There doesn’t seem to be any problems with your vocal cords, no swells or lacerations.” He looked at Harry, before glancing at the white gauze wrapped around the toddler’s head. Something seemed to click within the man’s mind because he was grabbing a blank piece of paper and started to quickly write something. 

“Do you know how to write letters?” Harry looked up from his hands which he’d been twiddling with, before tentatively nodding his head. He’d spied on aunt Petunia when she was trying to teach Dudley how to read and write letters. “Good, good. Can you point the letters out in your name? That would be very great of you.” 

And so Harry did, pointing first to the letter H and then the A. He tapped twice on what he knew to be the letter R and finished on the Y. Harry looked uncertainly up at the doctor, wondering if he did something wrong but the doctor simply gave him a small smile. “So your name is Harry?” A small nod and the doctor was scribbling it down on the top of a piece of paper clipped to the clipboard. “Can you do the same with your last name, Harry?”

And Harry did. Spelling out “Potter” the same way as he’d done with his name. The nurse came by again, bringing some food with her and a glass of water before leaving the room again to presumably help other patients. 

“Would we be able to contact your parents, Harry?” Harry swallowed the mashed potato with some difficulty, before shaking his head sadly. He stared glumly at the food on his lap, not feeling so hungry anymore.

“Ah…” Doctor Aker sighed, sending an understanding and sympathetic look the toddler’s way. “Are there any other guardians we would be able to contact? Maybe a grandparent or an aunt or uncle perhaps?” Harry looked away from the man’s face, not wanting to see the pity in the mans eyes as he shook his head a little unsurely. If the doctor didn’t know about his aunt or uncle, then they had probably left him here on his own accords. He remembered that the accident had happened near the playground in Little Whinging after all.

They sat in silence for a small while, Harry not daring to look up and the doctor scrutinizing Harry closely. “Do you remember what happened to you?” Harry’s eyes shot up to the doctor’s face for a split second before going back to watching his hands again. He started to wring them in the sheets nervously, before giving a quick and miniscule nod. If Robert hadn’t been watching the boy so closely, he would’ve likely missed it. 

“Alright Harry, I have to go to my other patients. If you need anything, just call for Amanda- the nurse who you’d met earlier this day. She’ll help you.” He waited for the child to nod before taking his leave. 

Five minutes of utter silence in the darkening room, before a strangled sound tore through a small throat. Harry shook with the force of his sobs, and slowly curled up in a tight ball under the sheets.

He cried himself to sleep that night. 

~*~WithoutSilence~*~


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 1 is up!  
> And Omg! Thank you guys, for the amazing feedback! Love you all!
> 
> I hope I won’t disappoint in this!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter or any of it’s characters. I only own this story and my creativity.
> 
> Warnings: Slash (not until some time though), slow build, time travel, cussing, violence, plotting, blood, (mild) gore, OOC, OC’s and Mute!Harry
> 
> Beta: Beta-ed by my lovely friend: Anki! (you can find her on FF.net) Please thank her for taking the time and always doing such a wonderful job at helping me by pointing out any mistakes I made.

 ~*~WithoutSilence~*~

Chapter 1

"And suddenly you know: It's time to start something new and trust the magic of beginnings." ~ Meister Eckhart

~*~WithoutSilence~*~

A tuft of black hair could be seen from behind the slightly open door. It disappeared for a second before reappearing together with a pair of bright green eyes. Harry peeked around the door, scanning the hallway of its occupants before his gaze came to a stop on one particular person. He followed her movements, not daring to move his eyes away in fear of losing track of her again and being caught off guard. He had to make sure that she wouldn't find him; he was on the run after all.

Amanda, the young brunette nurse currently being spied on, paced in the hallway. She went from door to door to take a peek inside, and after deeming that what she was looking for wasn't inside, quickly went to the next.

The tell-tale sound of her shoes clacking on the floor started to come closer to where he was hiding and Harry quickly ducked back behind the door again, pressing himself to the wall as the door was opened a little further. Amanda's head peeked in, her sharp eyes scanned the room where a few of the older patients were laying on their beds. She gave an irritated huff and shook her head as she went on her way again. As the sounds her shoes were making slowly started to get farther and farther away- until Harry wasn't able to hear them in the distance anymore- did Harry finally peel away from the wall with a small sigh of relief.

Mrs. Jones laughed softly, watching the four-year-olds antics with a fond expression from her position on the bed.

"Shouldn't you be in your room, Harry? I think the nurse is looking for you. And you know it isn't nice to keep a lady waiting." Mr. Mason said cheekily, watching in amusement as Harry went red in the face from embarrassment. Harry shook his head wildly, pleading with his eyes to the elders in the room not to sell him out to the  _Nurse O' Doom_. Of course Amanda wasn't really  _that_  bad. She was actually very kind and a great nurse. But Harry didn't want to sit through another check-up, even if it might be his last.

Mr. Mason shook his head in amusement at the child's antics before holding up two fingers to his mouth and making a twisting motion with his hand before making an exaggerated show of throwing something away behind his back.

"My mouth is sealed, soldier."

Harry grinned and quickly made a salute to the old man. Mrs. Jones was shaking her head all the while in fond exasperation.

The door suddenly burst open, an irate Amanda standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips. Harry squeaked in surprise, scrabbling to the closest thing which could give him some cover from the oncoming explosion that was sure to come. It happened to be Mr. Mason's bed, who raised his hands in mock-surrender the moment Amanda turned accusing eyes his way. He gave a small innocent smile, Amanda, unimpressed at the man's attempt at looking like an exemplary citizen, just crossed her arms over her chest.

"Harry," Amanda said, her tone a warning in itself. Harry tensed before his shoulders dropped. He slowly shuffled forward, not daring to look up from his sock-clad feet. Amanda placed a hand on his shoulder once he was close enough and and started to steer him outside. Her grip was almost unbending, and Harry had the faint feeling that she held him so tight because she was afraid of losing sight of him again. The four-year-old could be slippery as hell when he wanted to be.

As they exited the hospital room, Harry quickly spun around and waved a quick goodbye to the two elders before following after the nurse with trepidation.

~*~WithoutSilence~*~

He shivered as the metal touched his chest and took a few deep breaths. Goosebumps sprung up on his bare arms and legs and left Harry squirming on top of the sheets.

"Well Harry, it seems you've been healed up quite nicely." Doctor Aker put the stethoscope away, finishing up his final check-up of him. It's been almost three weeks since he woke up in the hospital, and he's finally been declared healthy enough to be released. Some things still hurt- like his arm- and he still got headaches from time to time, but everything else had had been healed as was expected. "Though I must say I'm quite surprised at such a fast recovery. I've never seen anything like this in all my life. You are quite something, Mr. Potter."

Harry ducked his head and started to twiddle around with the sheets he was sitting on. A small, shy smile on his lips as green-eyes peeked through a fringe of messy black hair. He brought his right hand to his mouth and moved his hand forward again, looking as if he was blowing a kiss. Robert laughed and ruffled Harry's mop of hair, managing to make it even messier than it had already been. "It's simply the truth Harry, so you shouldn't thank me. But, you are most welcome." Harry grinned up at him a little, before slipping off the side of the bed and went to gather his things. He'd been given a few clothes for when he got released and a pair of new shoes as his old-ones had been ruined beyond repair (not that they had been much to begin with.)

He'd been learning some simple words and phrases in sign-language- like 'Thank you' and 'Hello'- after Amanda brought in a book about it. Harry had immediately started to dive into it (after he was done moping of course), as there wasn't much else he could do to entertain himself except staring at the ceiling, learning to read from the nurses and trying out the hand-gestures used in sign-language. He had been stuck in bed for about a week and a half after all.

The hospital staff around the Royal London Hospital had all quickly taken a liking to the small and very curious kid. They would often times see him roaming the halls once he had been allowed to leave his bed, observing everyone from a distance. Most would often forget he was even there and go about their jobs, not minding the small green-eyed child watching from afar.

But the same could also be said about most of the patients, especially the older ones. Harry had seen that some were quite lonely, and after a day of working up some courage he walked in to one of the rooms and sat by an old woman's bed. He had held up his book awkwardly (as he had only one free hand, the other was still inside a sling) and tried to explain with gestures what she was supposed to do with it.

It had been Mrs. Jones who he had first approached, a kind old lady whose children only visited her once a month or sometimes even less. She had been close to tears as she started reading from the fairy-tale book Harry had been given by one of the nurses.

Mr. Mason had been harder for Harry to approach, because the man's gruff appearance scared the toddler a little at first. Mr. Mason is an ex-soldier and was missing a few of his fingers on his left hand and had various scars on his face. It made the man look quite dangerous, even in his old age.

It had actually been Mr. Mason who had made the first move. Calling for the child to take a seat at his bed, and had started telling stories about his time in the military. Harry would listen attentively to the man, his green eyes wide and full of amazement.

It had been a fun time, Harry thought. He'd met loads of interesting people and had learned a lot of new things. He didn't want to leave. Not really. He still had so much to learn! Mr. Mason hadn't told him all of his stories yet and Mrs. Jones still wasn't finished with the fairy tale she was reading to him. But sadly he was healthy again and an officer was waiting for him in the hallway to bring him to an orphanage.

He could remember what his uncle Vernon had once said about orphanages, and that Harry should've been very happy that they hadn't left him at one. He shivered, bringing small arms around his chest as he shuffled to the door. Harry didn't want to find out how bad it would be there. Would they think of him as a freak? He was lucky that nothing weird had happened at the hospital (save for his abnormally quick recovery), or else he probably would've been thrown on the streets.

Abandoned.

Left behind just like his family had done.

Harry sighed as he grabbed his coat from the hanger by the door- having to stand on a stepping stool to even reach the lowest hanging hook, specifically made for children- and quickly put it on. He hated being so small sometimes. It was already mid-November and it was getting colder by the day. Luckily he was used to being a little cold from his time at the Dursley's (the cupboard hadn't been the warmest spot in the house during winter), so he didn't mind it all too much.

The officer- who was going to bring him to the orphanage- had been leaning against the wall, and stood up straight as he saw Harry coming through the door with Doctor Aker walking shortly behind him. The two adults exchanged a brief greeting before Robert proceeded to give a brief summary of Harry's condition and gave the man an envelope before turning back to the toddler waiting patiently in the hallway.

Harry's attention had long since wondered to the people walking to and fro in the hospital. Nurses were bustling about and visitors were coming and going through the rooms lined up in the hallway. It sometimes surprised Harry how busy it was in a hospital. He wondered if it was normal for a hospital to have so many ill people. But it wasn't really like Harry had ever been in a hospital before, so he wouldn't really know.

And it wasn't like he could ask it anymore…

"-Harry," Green eyes blinked questioningly up at the patiently waiting man crouching in front of him. Robert shook his head, an amused smile on his lips. "You're going to have to go with this kind officer. He's going to bring you to your new home okay?" Harry nodded his head, wringing the strap of his new bag between his hands. It was becoming a nervous habit of his.

Doctor Aker stood up and ruffled Harry's hair. Rosy cheeks puffed up in indignation as small hands reached up to flatten down his hair again. Harry glared up at the tall adult, a warning look in his eyes. To the adults in the hallway though, the small green-eyed boy simply looked like an annoyed chipmunk, who had its nuts stolen from him. Harry's eyebrow twitched at the sound of laughter coming from the two men and gave an angry huff.  _They were_ seriously _laughing at him?!_

Harry stepped towards the officer once the man stopped chuckling, and took a hold of the man's outstretched hand. He looked uncertainly back as he walked through the hallway towards the exit.  _He didn't want to leave…_

Robert waved a hand at him, "Take care kid!" Amanda stepped up beside the doctor, holding her clipboard close to her chest. They watched as Harry disappeared through the front-doors.

"I'm going to miss that little tyke," she said, her eyes suspiciously bright. Robert made a sound from the back of his throat, before sighing and turning back around.

He had work to do after all.

~*~WithoutSilence~*~

"Here we are, Wool's Orphanage." The officer indicated towards the building standing tall in front of them. It was looking quite run-down and gave off an unpleasant feeling. Harry looked at the high railings surrounding the building, and wondered if the officer actually got the place wrong. It looked more like a prison than an orphanage in Harry's young eyes. He shivered slightly as they stepped through the gates, if it was because of the cold weather or the building itself, Harry wasn't sure.

"This is where you'll be staying until you've either got adopted or become too old to be allowed to stay. You're expected by the matron, who will give you a room and the specifics of your stay around here." The officer continued to babble as they walked up to the door, Harry was feeling more and more apprehensive the closer they got.

The officer knocked three times on the door, the sound ringing loud in Harry's ears. There was some shuffling behind the door, before the sound of a lock turning and the door was slightly opened by a young woman. She eyed up the officer and only took notice of Harry standing silently behind the man's leg because he'd scuffed a pebble with his shoe. She silently opened the door a little wider, stepping aside to let them through.

The officer turned towards Harry, "I'll be leaving you now, as you'll be in good hands. Give this to the matron, everything she needs to know about you is written inside." The man shoved the letter doctor Aker had given him in the toddlers' hands before swiftly trekking back down the stone path without another word.

Harry watched him go, a little confused and more than a little scared of what was happening and what's going to happen. He turned towards the woman waiting impatiently by the door before taking a deep breath and stepping over the threshold. His young mind had come up with different scenarios about what would happen once he stepped foot inside the grim looking building. Maybe he would get yelled at, or a cuff over the head. Maybe the woman would turn into a chicken and cluck around flapping her wings. What if the roof fell down on them?! He would get in so much trouble if that would happen! But luckily nothing bad happened (safe for Harry almost falling on his face in his nervousness), and the four-year-old followed silently after the woman. Who still hadn't said a word.

He wondered if she wasn't able to talk, like he was now.

The silence was awkward. Or as awkward as it can be for a toddler.

Harry wanted to fill the silence with as much noise as he could, sadly he couldn't talk to do that anymore… He  _could_  try jiggling his bag about, but Harry didn't want to risk getting in trouble on his first day by annoying the lady walking in front of him. And if he tried, he would likely stumble over thin air and knock something over, breaking it in the process.

He'd been clumsy ever since he woke up in the hospital. Tripping over thin air and knocking into various things. It was highly frustrating to the green-eyed-boy.

The first time he'd broken something in the hospital (a glass half-full with water), he'd expected to get yelled at like his Aunt and Uncle used to do. So he'd hidden under the bed sheets and refused to come out from under them as the nurses tried to coax him into eating.

Nurse Amanda eventually had to be called, and after a long half an hour of talking and reassuring him, he'd finally relented and wiped the tears away from his cheeks- his eyes red and puffy as he stared at his lap again. The guilt had gnawed at him for a few days, refusing to let up. He'd expected to be berated any moment, and would flinch away when anyone got too close. The nurses had been giving him sympathetic glances the entire time.

Harry let his mind wonder as they passed various gloomy hallways and went up a staircase. He thought back to the walk through the city. He had stared at all the cars and differently dressed people walking on the streets. He had never seen people dress like that or drive in cars like those. But, maybe it was normal here in London, he's never been here before after all.

Harry had to practically run after the woman once his mind had snapped back to the present. There was a little more distance between them than previously and Harry really didn't want to lose sight of his escort, lest he get lost. It was very difficult to keep up with the woman's fast pace, especially so with his short legs. Luckily the woman started to slow down once they reached a door at the end of the hall and Harry almost sighed in relief.

Idly he thought it was quite strange that he hadn't seen or heard a single kid in the time he walked through the building. Shouldn't it be bustling with children? It was an Orphanage… right?

She knocked softly on the door, a muffled voice answering only a second later.

His escort opened the door and peeked her head in. Harry could hear her say something- it was the first time he'd heard her voice, apparently she could talk just fine- before beckoning him inside.

Harry reluctantly stepped forward, gripping the letter between his small hands maybe a little too hard; as the paper started to crinkle under the abuse. He looked back at the woman who brought him here- he still didn't know her name- and watched as she shut the door after him. Harry stared at the wood for a few moments, not moving a muscle.

"Ahem," a cough behind him made Harry's back go straight. He turned around, looking down at his shoes as he shifted from foot to foot. He could practically  _feel_  the assessing look the woman in front of him gave him. It made Harry more nervous than he already was.

"Sit, boy." The harsh tone and the use of the word 'Boy' caused Harry to flinch at the command before he shuffled towards one of the bare wooden chairs standing in front of a desk. He had to climb onto it, as he was still smaller than the average four-year-old and the chair wasn't really made for small children.

The room was fairly simple, a desk with a big chair and a cabinet behind it. There was a heavy lock on the two doors, and it made him wonder what was behind them.  
A small window on his right side was the only source of light, and gave the room a kill look.

The woman sitting behind the desk was looking at him, eyes as sharp as a hawk. Her brown hair* was kept in a neat bun and already turning grey. Age-lines decorated her eyes and mouth, making her look older than she probably was.

"What's your name, boy?" She looked at him expectantly, drumming her fingers on the hard wooden desk. "Well? You answer when someone asks you a question." Her eyes narrowed and Harry tried to make himself as small as possible in his chair. He reluctantly held his shaking hand out, the letter clutched inside a small fist. "What's that?" The woman asked harshly, taking the letter from him without waiting for a reply that wouldn't come. Harry quickly retracted his hand towards his chest, trying to sit as still as possible so as to not attract the woman's attention again while she was reading the letter. He used to do this at the Dursleys too. After all, he wouldn't get in trouble as long as they forgot he was even there.

A hum broke him from his thoughts and green-eyes locked with sharp-grey.

"Well,  _Harry_ …" she began, turning her nose up at the child in front of her. "I suppose I should welcome you to Wool's Orphanage. I am Mrs. Cole, the current matron here. Tell me, what is your age?"

Harry held up four fingers as he stared wide-eyed at the intimidating woman. She reminded him an awful lot of his Aunt.

He didn't like her at all.

She eyed him sceptically* after he did so, probably not taking his word for it (figuratively speaking, of course.) Harry couldn't really blame her though, he looked younger and smaller than any other kid his age should. She eventually wrote it down on a piece of paper which lay in front of her after getting no further reaction from the green-eyed boy. "I'm going to explain the rules around here, boy. You better remember them, because you  _will_  be punished for breaking them. Do you understand?" She gave him a stern look as Harry silently nodded his head.

"Breakfast will be held in the mess hall downstairs from 8 'till 9 in the morning. Dinner will be held from 6 until 7 in the evening, if you're too late you won't get any food." She stood up, motioning for Harry to follow. He jumped off the chair, stumbling for a second, before following after the matron. Harry had to practically run (again) to keep up. Damn his short legs. Mrs. Cole led him around the building, showing him the mess hall, the kitchen (where no children were allowed. She gave him a pointed look as she told him that stealing wasn't tolerated.), the bathrooms (there were three in total, one for the staff and two for the children, boys and girls had to be separated of course.)

Mrs. Cole gave Harry a steely glare after he accidently knocked into a cabinet standing in the reception area, almost causing a vase with a few wilting flowers inside it to fall down. He made sure to not walk close to any of the furniture after that.  
Mrs. Cole had told him that this room was used to receive couples who were looking to adopt a child.

She also said to not get his hopes up…

"Bullying won't be tolerated and violence will be punished severely. If we catch you harming any of the other children, be sure to not appreciate the consequences." She gave him a steely glance from her place next to him in the hallway, not once interrupting her brisk walk past the many doors. Every single one looked the same. Brown wooded and a little worn.

"All the children have to go to church every Sunday together with two staff members, no exceptions." Ah. That would explain why it was so… desolate. Today was a Sunday. "You'll be enrolled in the same school as all the other children." She gave him a long look, before sniffing a little. "But I suppose you also need some extra material." Harry looked down at his hands, suddenly not feeling all that well.

"This is where you'll be sleeping for now," Mrs. Cole suddenly stopped by a door at the end of the hallway. "Well, go on in." she said impatiently, looking pointedly at the door. Harry thought he saw disgust flash in her eyes, but it was gone so fast that he thought he was simply making things up. He turned the doorknob, slowly pushing the creaking door open. He glanced around the small room, not finding much of interest to look at.

There were two neatly made beds shoved against opposite walls. Two closets standing at either foots of both beds and a single window in between the beds, giving a view of the backyard of the orphanage.

All in all, the room was just as drab as the rest of the building and was very empty. It didn't really give off the feeling that someone sleeps here, so Harry was surprised to hear otherwise from the matron.

"You'll be sleeping with one of the older boys, as this is the only free bed we have at the moment." She shot him a sympathetic look, and as Harry blinked it was gone again.

Maybe he should get some sleep… Never mind that it was still morning.

"The children will be back by lunchtime, until that time you can put away your stuff and look around a little. Don't break anything." And with that cheerful piece of advice, she sharply turned around and left the room in a brisk walk.

Harry gingerly sat on one of the beds after the sound of Mrs. Cole's heels faded around a corner in the hallway and placed his bag- which he had with him all the time- next to him on the squeaky bed. He looked out of the window, watching the grey sky overhead and the bald trees standing around the yard. He had about an hour or so before everyone would be back, and Harry could feel the nervous jitters inside his stomach.

Taking a deep breath, green eyes narrowed in determination. He can do this.

This would be his new life from now on. A new beginning. A fresh start!  
He hoped he won't blow this.  _He didn't want to be the_ freak _anymore._

He might even make his first friend here!

Excitement bubbled up inside him as the child bounced on the bed with uncontained glee. Green eyes glittered as he stared wide-eyed at the room around him.

_He can do this._

He couldn't wait to meet the other kids!

~*~WithoutSilence~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I'm not really sure what colour Mrs. Cole's hair used to be, so I just went with brown.
> 
> *It might seem like it's written wrong for those who use the American form of English, but this is the correct word written in British English… You guys might've already noticed that I use that form of writing most of the time.
> 
> This story is originally posted on: FanFiction.net under the username: Diamond Pearls


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally is chapter 2 finished! That took a lot longer than expected… Oh well! I’m just glad it’s finally done! XD but really, I’m very busy with school right now, and work is also doing a great job of robbing me of my spare time. What I so all do for some money…
> 
> And everyone! Thank you all for leaving Kudos and a special thanks to everyone who left a comment! You guys are all amazing 0(^w^)/
> 
> Warning! Gore up ahead! You have been warned...

 ~*~WithoutSilence~*~

Chapter 2

“Loneliness and the feeling of being unwanted is the most terrible poverty.” ~ Mother Teresa

~*~WithoutSilence~*~ 

It had started out pretty well; he’d been helping the cook with bringing the prepared food from the kitchen to where it would be served in the mess hall to the children- when he heard the sound of feet running and loud, boisterous voices of the other kids as they put away their jackets and noisily made their way towards the mess hall for some food.

Harry had stood awkwardly to the side, shifting from foot to foot with a plate of food held in one hand, which he had gotten from the kind lunch lady as the other children started to stand in line for theirs. He was unsure where to go now, being unfamiliar with any kind of interaction with kids his age, only knowing about his experiences with Dudley and his friends (which wasn’t the best kind of example to use as a first impression.) 

People were starting to notice him. How could they not? He was an unfamiliar face around here after all.

The stares were making him even more nervous than he had been already though... 

Some children looked at him with open curiosity, others only giving a passing glance before deeming him unimportant and resuming their own conversations (this came mostly from the older kids.) Then the whispers started and fingers were pointed in his direction. Harry flinched slightly at one harsh comment about the bandages around his arm and the tape on his forehead. Rubbing his arm with the hand balancing a plate against the bandages a little self-consciously. Then the children began to speculate about what could’ve happened, and why he looked a little banged up. Though the worst of the injuries are already healed (which had been mostly internal) so they wouldn’t know about that. Luckily.

Some very outrageous stories were starting to go around, and Harry wasn’t sure how to proceed from here. 

Apparently one of the kids had taken pity on him, and started to make his way to him.

“Heya! I’m Eric!” A boy with short, curly blond hair was nearly yelling in his enthusiasm. “You’re new, right? I haven’t seen you around here before, so you must be! How old are you? I’m five!” Here Eric held up his right hand, nearly shoving it in Harry’s face when the boy proudly displayed five of his fingers. Harry instinctively took a small step back, his back stiffening as he stared with wide-eyes at the other boy. “Why do you have those bandages? What happened? Did you fall? Does this hurt?” He proceeded to poke Harry in the arm with bandages around it. Harry winced slightly and quickly brought his arm closer towards himself, cradling it protectively (or as much as he could whilst holding a plate in the other hand.) It didn’t hurt much, but it wasn’t a very nice feeling, either. “Oh! Sorry! I didn’t hurt you, did I? I didn’t mean to, honest!

…are you OK?”

Harry gave a tentative nod, looking at the other warily (as one would do with a rabid animal.) Eric sighed in apparent relief and proceeded to take him by the arm- the uninjured one trying to balance a plate, and steered him away towards one of the tables. Harry tried his best to not spill any of his food, as he didn’t want to be made to clean it up. He had finally met one of the kids, and didn’t want to spend his time scrubbing the floor whilst he could be making friends. No Thanks.

The hand left his arm and Harry let out a breath as he was unceremoniously pushed down on one of the benches. It hadn’t been difficult for Eric to do so- as he was nearly a head taller than Harry, even when the age difference wasn’t that big.

He’d barely managed to set his plate on the relative safety of the table before Eric plopped down next to him with a smile on his face.

“These are my friends! This is Annie,” He waved a hand in the direction of a small frizzy-haired girl with a big gap in her mouth where a tooth will probably grow soon. “Dennis and Amy,” A boy looked up from the plate he had been eating, giving an affirmative nod and the girl seated next to him waved a little. “And Billy. He’s the oldest of us, already six!” Eric proceeded to whisper in a dramatic fashion as he pointed towards a freckled boy (who gave a little grunt in acknowledgement) who looked a lot sturdier than all the other kids around the room at that age. The boy was at least a head taller than him, from what Harry could tell whilst sitting. He gave a tentative smile and waved his good hand a little shyly, feeling his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. 

Eric opened his mouth to say something again, when a hushed silence suddenly fell over the room. It was nearly deafening after the constant chatter and shouting of the many orphans.

Harry looked up from where he was inspecting if the food served was truly edible- and had been contemplating if he would be poisoned should he take a bite (though beggars can’t be choosers and he’d had much worse at the Dursley’s)- and looked around in confusion at the others.

…what was happening?

Did he miss something important or…? 

He wished he could talk so he would’ve been able to ask someone. He was about to tap Eric on the shoulder, when the whispers started up again. Just as a boy was taking a seat at an empty table.

Harry couldn’t understand everything they were saying, but the harsh whisper of “ _Freak_.” uttered by Billy had him stiffening up in his seat, staring with wide- fearful eyes towards the older boy sitting across from him.

He couldn’t know that about him right? That’s impossible, right? He hadn’t done anything after all, right? But… then how did he… How? He was starting to shake as the whispers suddenly became very loud to his ears. Harry was nearly beginning to have a nervous breakdown and almost started crying on the spot.

“- _Monster_ ,”

“- _Demon_ ,”

“- _FREAK_.” 

_That_ word continued to come back in the hushed conversations going on around him. It was either said fearfully or said as a snide remark. Harry was faintly aware of a hand shaking him and that his ‘old’ lightning bolt scar had also started to tingle. But Harry didn’t pay it any mind, too caught up in his own thoughts and fears. 

_He didn’t want to be all alone again-!_

…

It was only after a few moments of panicking (nearly hyperventilating), when Harry finally began to take notice of the fact that they _weren’t talking about him._

Harry blinked his eyes open, slowly loosening the death grip he had around his knees- which were now pulled up on the bench- and let out a sigh of relief as his wildly beating heart was starting to calm down again. The others at the table (and a few of the kids sitting nearby) were giving him weird-out looks. Harry looked down at his lap, twiddling with a loose piece of string on his shirt as he tried to make the shaking in his hands to _just_ \- _stop_ -!

“Hey!” he startled at Eric’s sudden loud voice, nearly screaming in his ear. “You hadn’t told us your name yet!”

“’Haven’t’” The girl, _Amy_ Harry thought she was called, corrected Eric softly. Eric scrunched his nose up, looking like he was smelling something foul. Maybe it was the food on his plate?

“Yeah,” Eric said, a lot less enthusiastically than earlier. “What she said!”

Dennis snorted in his drink. 

Eric looked expectantly at him, and when he failed to give an answer after a few moments had passed, were the others also giving him curious looks.  
“Just give us your name, that isn’t such a difficult task to do.” The tone Billy used made him flinch slightly again. His eyes glanced around at everyone, before going back down again. He already knew what he would see if he looked in their eyes. Avoiding eye-contact was the better option in Harry’s young mind. He had learned that the hard way at the Dursley’s.

“What? You slow or something?” A few chortles were heard around them as a few onlookers watched his face go red in embarrassment.

“Maybe he’s just stupid!” was shouted from the other side of the room. More laughs joined in with the last, and it caused a flood of comments and jeering to follow after.

“What a weirdo!” 

“Maybe there’s something wrong in his _head_.”

“What if it’s _contagious!_ ” 

“Hey! Say something!”

“Doesn’t even know his own name…” 

“Not another _freak_.”

The last comment made Harry scramble from his seat in a panic. He stumbled for a second, nearly falling on his face in his haste to just _get away-!_ More laughter filled the room again as he tried to catch his balance, just managing to hold onto the table with his good hand. 

Harry looked hopefully at Eric, thinking that the other boy would help him and stand up for him. But as he tried to make eye-contact, he noticed that Eric had turned around in his seat. Harry stared at the back of the blonde’s head for a couple of seconds, not really comprehending the fact that _his friend_ (and Harry had thought of the boy as his friend, if even for a short while.) had turned his back on him. Eric wasn’t going to help him…

Billy was snickering from his seat, throwing in his own two cents of insults and name-calling. Dennis was looking at him like he was some sort of Alien and Amy had her nose scrunched up, giving him a pinched look. Annie was apparently torn between looking at Harry with pity and morbid curiosity.

Tears blurred his vision as his stomach twisted, leaving behind nothing but a sick feeling. It was nothing compared to the _emptiness_ inside his chest though…

_Left behind again…_  

A sob wrecked his body and he glared heatedly at the ‘Not Friends’ still sitting at the table.

_But that’s just it, isn’t it? Freaks weren’t allowed to have friends…_

_They weren’t allowed to be loved…_

_And he was the biggest_ Freak _of them all_.

-Or so his uncle always called him, he thought angrily.

He didn’t notice as the light bulbs hanging above the tables flickered ominously, or when they started to shake slightly.

He did notice though when they all suddenly exploded in a rain of sparks.

Tiny shards of glass were raining down on the children as they screamed in fear and surprise. Some were ducking under the tables for cover, others were holding their arms over their heads to protect their faces from the splintered glass. Small scratches littered their arms and faces, some slowly dripping blood on the floor or the tables.

It was a miracle that no one got anything in their eyes. That would’ve been very unfortunate, indeed.

The lady who had escorted Harry into the house was trying to calm everyone down again and was yelling at one of the other matrons to get Mrs. Cole as she checked over a whining boy who had a nasty looking cut on his cheek, blood slowly dribbling down his face only to fall down in thick droplets onto the floor.

Harry stood in the middle of all the glass, petrified and shaking as he stared wide-eyed as all the other kids were slowly coming out from under their hiding places. A few of the younger children were crying, the older kids trying to calm them down to the best of their abilities. Harry, amazingly, hadn’t received a single scratch…

Movement out of the corner of his eye made Harry turn his head a little, and just simply stared at the sight in front of him.

Apparently, someone _did_ get something in their eye.

A giant piece of glass, that is.

Curly blond hair was matted with blood. One blue eye was opened so wide, that Harry wouldn’t be surprised if it would pop out of their face. The other eye was stabbed through by one of the bigger pieces of glass, red liquid trailing from his eye down his face in mock tears as he lay on his back, hands twitching at his sides. The eyelid was twitching, as it couldn’t close again with the shard in the way. 

Harry stared in horror at the boy- _Eric,_ his mind whispered to him- lying on the ground with his head in a small puddle of his own blood. 

_The red was_ everywhere _._

A scream snapped him out of his daze, and panic started to grip his heart. Blood was pounding between his ears, the quick thumping of his heart so loud that Harry was certain that anyone standing next to him would be able to hear it.

He stared as Annie started crying, hovering next to Eric as an adult- one of the matrons- was trying her best to help the blond. Dennis was helping Amy up as they watched from a distance as Eric was moaning and screaming out in pain. He didn’t see Billy anywhere.

Harry might not like Eric much after he dropped him like a sack of potatoes, but that didn’t mean that he wanted the other to _die_ -!

Tears fell from wide, green eyes; dripping onto the hardwood floor below as it made a trail down his chin. _He did this._ His hands were shaking so bad that it looked like he was having a spastic attack. _He… He did this._ Breathing became difficult as he inadvertently took a step back from the scene.

Harry was nearly sent crashing into the floor at the amount of guilt he was feeling. Because he somehow just knew that he had caused all this. He always was the centre of the problem. His uncle had always said so.

It was something a four-year-old oughtn’t to be having guilty feelings and thoughts about. It wasn’t very rational after all; to blame a small child for the blowing up of all the lights in a room. Something which should have been out of his control. Being a small child and all.

_This was his fault._

But who ever said that a toddler would be rational? 

“ _What_ is going on here!” Harry jumped at the loud screech. Mrs. Cole was standing in the doorway, surveying the damage done to her orphanage before briskly walking inside, her face twisted in something ugly. Various children recoiled back as she passed by them, her intent almost murderous.

Her sharp eyes landed on the people crowding over Eric and quickly walked up to him. She checked over his injuries, before calling out to one of the matrons to quickly dial the hospital. 

Five minutes later, Eric was sent off on his way to the hospital. Everyone was watching silently as this happened, before the loud voice of Mrs. Cole brought everyone’s attention back to her.

“ _What_ happened!” It wasn’t really a question, more of a demand if anything. Harry didn’t dare move. Or breathe for that matter. The room was suddenly too small, and Harry shrunk back slightly as he looked down at his feet again. The feeling as if every person were looking at him was burning at the back of his head (not that everyone was, of course. But that hardly mattered to Harry.)

“Well? No one can tell me about what happened?” 

_It was all his fault…!_

“Well,” a sudden voice spoke over the silence which had blanketed over the room. It was a boy, probably a year or two older than Harry and easily a head taller than him. He held his breath. He was going to be blamed, surely. And then he will be kicked out on the streets, or worse… “I think the fuse box overloaded, and all the lights in the mass hall blew up as a result... Ma’am” The title was almost added as an afterthought, and Harry could feel his breath catch for the boy as Mrs. Cole narrowed her hawk-like eyes on the boy. He didn’t seem to notice though- or maybe he just didn’t care and ignored the glare the woman was sending him. Harry wasn’t sure. 

“Riddle,” She bit out sharply, narrowing her eyes even further than Harry had first assumed possible. 

“Mrs. Cole.” The boy- ‘Riddle’- countered nonchalantly, as if he wasn’t talking back to an adult probably more than five times his age, and twice his length.

Mrs. Cole eyed the young boy up, Riddle staring back at her coolly. “Why do I get the feeling you were involved in this, boy.” She bit out harshly. Harry blinked at that. What?

Riddle just raised an elegant eyebrow (which was pretty damn amazing to pull off as a five- or six-year-old,) “And how, pray tell, would I have been able to cause this… accident, ma’am?” His tone had a mocking undertone, even though he stayed respectful enough to not be patronizing. Apparently, Mrs. Cole heard it all the same, if the reddening on her cheeks were any indication. “I was simply eating my lunch when it happened. I couldn’t have touched any of the electrical wiring after all.”

Whispers started up around them from the orphans, speculations and accusations going around. The words ‘freak’ and ‘demon’ coming up occasionally. Some believed that it was just bad wiring, others thought it was ‘Riddles’ fault somehow. As Harry looked around, he saw that no-one was giving him a second glance. He released a breath he hadn’t known he was holding in.

Until he looked up and saw two pairs of eyes watching him.

Billy was glaring; looking for the world like he was about to maim something. And that something seemed to be him. Harry took in a sharp breath of air, glancing wildly around himself for some sort of escape route (something which had been ingrained at the Dursley’s.)

His gaze swept passed the boy who had been holding a stare-down with Mrs. Cole, only to do a double-take as he saw the boy watching him in mild interest. They stared at each other for a few moments, the boy looking more amused at every passing second and Harry feeling more confused than ever.

He didn’t know why, but something in the other’s gaze sent shivers down his spine.

He was broken away by Mrs. Cole again as she told everyone to head to their rooms and wait there until everything was cleaned up, and that if anyone had sustained an injury, that they were supposed to head to her office, where Martha (apparently the woman who had led him to her before) would patch everyone up. 

Harry slowly moved from his spot which he had been rooted to all this time and made his way towards the door, mindful of the glass littering the floor.

The children were still talking, and some were complaining about being send to their rooms; saying that it wasn’t fair. But Harry didn’t really mind, his head was still playing the image of Eric bleeding on the ground before him and the frightened screams of the children was still ringing loudly inside his ears. He was still feeling the guilt, though it had been pushed to the back of his mind. Because now hopeful thoughts were starting to make their way into his head. 

_What if… What if it really hadn’t been him? What if it really had been a simple technical failure, like that boy had said? What if…_  

He slowly made his way up the stairs, the large group of orphans slowly splitting off as their rooms were on various floors. Harry had been the last to make his way on the third floor, where the last of the children’s rooms were located. His was at the end of the hall, and Harry shuffled behind the few remaining kids, who- too- eventually disappeared inside their rooms.

Harry stood still in the hallway, listening to the muffled voices coming from behind closed doors. His eyes started to water again, and a nauseating feeling rose from his stomach to his throat, making him want to puke. Though if he did, it wouldn’t be much. As he hadn’t eaten more than a few bites at lunch before everything had went to hell.

And that was what had actually happened, hadn’t it? It appeared that Harry just wasn’t meant to have any friends. Ever. Which was a very depressing thought for a small (impressionable) four-year-old.

He began to walk again, shoulders slumped slightly as he reached the door at the end of the hall. The sudden thought of meeting his roommate broke through his melancholy thoughts, and managed to make him nervous all over again. What if it was someone who had laughed at him during the lunch? Harry took a deep breath (not that it calmed him in the least) and slowly turned the door knob with a shaking hand. 

He could only hope. 

“What are you doing in my room?”

His scar tingled again. Harry could only blink in surprise as he stared into a pair of dark eyes, rubbing absentmindedly over the tape on his forehead where his scar was hidden.

His roommate was lounging on the bed, apparently reading a thick book before his arrival- which Harry probably couldn’t even _begin_ to understand if he were to read it. Jet black hair (the same colour as his) was styled neatly atop his head. A lot different from his own shaggy hair-style. Luckily, the other boy hadn’t been injured too badly because of the incident, only a few small scratches. (And even those were very minimal.)

Riddle’s eyes narrowed at him, and Harry couldn’t really tell what the other was thinking about. He started to fidget a little, shifting from foot to foot in a nervous manner as he continued to stand in the doorway. 

What was he supposed to do? He’d never had a roommate before. Not that that was really possible, with his room having been a cupboard and all… 

“I suppose Mrs. Cole assigned you this room then?” Harry gave a silent nod in conformance, twisting the hem of his shirt between his good hand again. 

Riddle eyed him for a few more moments, before turning back to reading his book- obviously dismissing him. Harry stood awkwardly for a few moments before tentatively stepping into the room. When the other boy didn’t say anything to stop him, did he finally relax a little and slowly sat down on his bed.

There was silence for a long time- Harry wasn’t sure if it was a comfortable one or not- with Tom reading his book and harry glancing around the room to distract himself with something. He was staring out of the window, looking at a pair of pigeons flying around the garden in search of some food, when the sudden lack of sound of pages being turned made him glance back around at the other bed.

He nearly jumped up in surprise when he met the steady gaze of the older kid. They stared at each other for a while- Harry not very sure why he was doing it.

…

A hum left from the back of Riddle’s throat as he continued to stare contemplatively at the child now occupying the otherwise empty bed. Harry just tilted his head at the sound, almost like a curious little puppy. Tom blinked, dispelling the image he had conjured up in his head of a pair of ears and a wagging tail. 

“I’m Tom Riddle,” he said and watched as the small child perked up at this. Big, green eyes stared hopefully at him from across the room. Tom’s finger twitched slightly.

Harry opened his mouth, but then frowned as he looked back down at the bed again. Suddenly, the toddler jumped down from the bed and walked towards his closet. He rummaged inside it for a few seconds, Tom watching in faint curiosity as the boy pulled out a book. 

Dark brows rose in surprise and continued to climb up as he got the book shoved right under his nose. He nearly hit the little twerp out of reflex, but managed just in time to hold himself back. 

It wouldn’t do if the kid went crying towards the matron.

He finally looked down at what the kid was trying to show him, and blinked at what the book was about.

Sign language.

_Huh_. 

Apparently the other child – _really-can’t_ - _talk_.

How… _interesting_.

Dark eyes glanced back up at the child standing nearly on his toes as he looked eagerly at Tom. Tom sighed through his nose, before placing a book marker (which was just really a piece of torn paper) at the right page and put the book away. 

He opened the cover, and followed a delicate finger to the corner of the page as it pointed out two scribbled words. 

_Harry Potter_

“Harry? That’s your name?” a shy nod was all the answer he needed, and he gave the other boy a reassuring smile.

“I hope we will become _great_ … _friends_ , Harry Potter.”

He received a blinding smile in return as bright green eyes closed in happiness.

_Too easy._

~*~WithoutSilence~*~

Harry sighed for what could be the umpteenth time that night, bringing his arms and knees closer to his chest as he shivered from a cold draft of wind blowing in from under the closed door. Green eyes stared solemnly out the window of his small room, watching thick flakes of snow falling down to the ground below and covering everything in a cold, icy blanket.

It was past curfew. Most of the orphans were already fast asleep, curled up under multiple thin blankets to try and keep warm from the cold winter weather. Sleep had evaded the small four-year-old. He didn’t want to sleep, because then the nightmares would come back to haunt him at night.

Nightmares of bright flashes of light, the sound of screeching tires and a cruel laugh as a woman screamed.

He shivered again and burrowed his head between his knees, pulling his arms even tighter around himself. He stared unseeingly at the frost forming on the window, knowing that when he pressed his hand against it, it would be ice-cold. The soft breathing coming from his roommate calmed his frantically beating heart again, his scar stopping it’s itching from the thoughts of his nightmare. 

It had been doing that since the first day he came in the orphanage. 

It wasn’t painful- per se, just slightly unpleasant. Sometimes it tingled, sometimes it itched. And other times it just downright _stings_. That had been a _very_ unpleasant feeling, indeed.

The sound of sheets shuffling made him look up at the other bed. Harry held his breath as his head shot up at the other bed, afraid that if he so much as breathed the wrong way, he would wake his roommate up. He couldn’t really see much in the darkness of the room, just a faint outline from where he knew the bed was situated. A few seconds passed, and no further sounds came from the other bed as the slow, steady breathing of the sleeping boy filled the silence again.

He let out a sigh of relief, now staring wide-awake at the other bed. A pang shot throughout his chest at the thought of Tom. 

_Tom_.

He wasn’t very sure what to think of the older boy.

Most of the time the older boy ignored him, apparently preferring to stay at a distance and watch in an aloof manner. And when he did pay attention to him, it wasn’t really to play. Tom apparently thought that playing was beneath him, and told him to read a book or study his sign-language (Tom had taken to borrowing his sign book for studying, which would leave a warm tingling feeling behind in his chest.)

They had started exchanging a few gestures between each other. Simple things which were easy to do and to remember. And Harry couldn’t be happier that Tom was his roommate, and maybe he could even start to call him his _friend_.

He liked the sound of that…

Though he did sometimes wonder about the calculating gazes Tom would throw his way. As if he expected that he would make something miraculous happen.

But he _won’t_! He doesn’t want to lose the only friend he has now again. He can’t let that happen! He can’t! And Harry will do anything to keep that from happening. 

_Anything!_

_He finally wasn’t alone anymore, after all…_

It was with this final thought that Harry finally fell into a peaceful sleep. Not aware of the other boy staring at him from the other side of the room.

~*~WithoutSilence~*~ 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is originally posted on fanfiction.net under the username: Diamond Pearls  
> Link to original story: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11929944/1/Without-Silence

**Author's Note:**

> This story is originally posted on fanfiction.net under the username: Diamond Pearls  
> Link to original story: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11929944/1/Without-Silence


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